Addiction

Chapter 17-1

Chapter 17

Sophie had the most wonderful laugh, he decided, listening to her tell stories of her childhood, about playing hide and seek in the wooded area behind the school and getting poison oak, and about the time she'd gotten caught with her dad's favorite pipe, telling him she needed it for her dolls to use as a horn in some sort of tribal tea-party make-believe.

Why did she have to be so cute? Why did he constantly feel the need to touch her or have her close? He glared at her thigh, where the Champagne Chimp had rested a hand, and wanted to break every finger that touched her. s**t, he needed to get out of here, but they were still waiting for the cake to arrive, having finished the main course minutes before.

She crushed a napkin in her hand, shredding little bits from the luxuriant tissue as Taylor kneaded the flesh of her upper thigh. At the f*****g dinner table, no less. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of his father yet again, who glared at him in silent warning. Jesus, the old man never gave him a break, did he? He wasn't doing anything – unlike Champagne Chimp over there.

Sophie shifted in her seat, drawing her thigh from his grasp and Logan settled back in his seat with satisfaction. He knew she wasn't promiscuous – hell, she probably hadn't even gone all the way with him yet – but just seeing her petted and pawed like a cheap date made him angry as f**k. The least the guy could do is wait until they were alone to lay hands on her.

Catching the eye of a pretty waitress, Logan excused himself. She'd been giving him the eye all night, and he knew if he passed within reasonable distance, her number would find its way into his hand. Just as he sidled passed her on his way to the men's room, she approached him, a knowing smile creasing her doll-like face. With a small flourish, she pressed a piece of paper into his hand.

He waited until he was in the bathroom to unfold it.

I'm free at eleven, it said. Meet me?

Not even a phone number, just a booty call. Even better. He decided he would work some of his frustration off on this waitress without a name. Then maybe he could stand to be around his sister tomorrow for an hour or so. It was so hard to be near her since their kiss last year. He'd moved out of the house for all intents and purposes, bunking in with the friends he'd made at uni, rather than going home to her sweet smell and sleepy moans.

Their walls were pretty thin, and soon after their kiss he began waking at night – those rare nights he actually slept there – to her soft moans from next door. He suspected what she was up to, and it made him hotter than ever for the girl. One of these nights he wouldn't have the strength to fight it anymore, and she wouldn't either. He lived in fear and hope of that night.

Washing his hands, he turned from the sink in time to see his father walk through the door, meeting his surprised look with one of sternness. “We need to talk.”

Logan tried to push past, but his father stopped him with a glare. He sighed. “What's up?”

“You know what's up. Why do I have to keep reminding you that she's your sister?” Harry's face was ruddy from both alcohol and anger – never a good combination where his father was concerned.

“Why do I have to keep reminding you that she's not?”

“She is.” His father's jaw had begun to tick. “I don't care what that d**k of yours tells you. She's your family.”

“I agree.”

“Good.”

He stalled his father with a look of his own. He wasn't a scrawny kid anymore and his father didn't scare him. Damn the tuition, he'd find a way to make it work. “She is my family. More than you've ever been, Harry. But that doesn't make her my sister, no more than it takes away the fact that you're my dad.” He softened his gaze somewhat, seeing the hurt in his father's eyes. He knew that his dad loved him, in his own f****d up way, but he was sick and tired of always being on the receiving end of his silent threats and reprimands. “I love her.” There, he'd said it. “I've never felt so much for a girl in my whole entire life.”

His dad snorted, a look of genuine confusion on his face. “You're nineteen years old, Son. You haven't met enough girls to feel that way for sure.”

“So you say,” he told him seriously, a decision solidifying in his mind. “I'm going to tell her how I feel before I leave for uni tomorrow. Don't,” he held up a hand in protest. “Don't tell me what I already know. She has a boyfriend. It'll make things awkward. I'm an asshole. I know. Don't you think I know? But I have to tell her, just in case she feels the same.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'll never bring it up again. I'll finish college and move back home and forget she ever existed.”

His father searched his gaze for a moment. “I don't want you to do this. It will only hurt us all as a family.”

“That's where you're wrong, Dad. Our family is already hurting because of this thing between us. The air needs to be cleared one way or another.”

Harry nodded. He clapped Logan on the upper arm before striding past him to the urinal. “I hope you know what you're doing,” he told him.

“Me too.” Now that he'd made the decision, his entire body shook with nerves and adrenaline. He took the folded piece of paper from the nameless waitress and scrunched it into a ball before dropping it into the trash on his way out. He had no use for that now. s**t, he was really going to do this, wasn't he?

What would he do if she told him to take a hike? He shook his head, refusing to believe that she would. He'd seen the effect his hand skimming her side had had on her earlier in the evening, and he damn well knew she was still attracted to him. Surely she'd want to see where things led? Especially since Harry would no doubt tell Marie as soon as they were alone. He'd opened the entire can of worms and dumped them on the table. It was up to her now, if she wanted to dig through it to find the hidden gem inside.

With a smile, he seated himself beside her again, draping his hand across the back of her chair, feeling her stiffen when he caressed the bare skin of her shoulders where her dress rode low in the back. She looked at him sharply, two spots of color on her cheeks, and he smiled widely and without remorse. She cleared her throat and leaned forward, away from his roaming fingertips.

Soon, he thought. Soon, he'd find out if she blushed just as deeply with his hands on other parts of her anatomy.

Logan got through the rest of the meal, singing 'Happy Birthday' along with the rest of them, and wishing his parents a good night, all with a sense of purpose and patience. He'd stick around until Sophie and Taylor had said their own goodbyes and on the walk home, he'd park her ass on that same bench and tell her how he felt.

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